


Don’t Let me Lose You

by Mothmania



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:35:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23709250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mothmania/pseuds/Mothmania
Summary: House wakes up from another nightmare. Out on concern, Wilson tries to comfort him but House still feels he can’t be entirely honest with his lover yet. It’s fluff it’s angst and everything in between. (Also if you are reading this at 1 am because let’s face it that’s prime fic reading time then for the love of god...keep reading. SLEEP IS FOR THE WEAK.
Relationships: Hilson - Relationship, House x Wilson, Wilson x House
Comments: 6
Kudos: 124





	Don’t Let me Lose You

**Author's Note:**

> I know this isn’t the most well written fic but ah...I’m tired and sad so yeah.

** Don’t Let Me Lose You **

  
It was 1:29 am when House awoke in a cold sweat. He immediately shot up like someone had pulled a rope tied to his chest. 

He was out of breath. His skin pricked at the surprising coldness of the room. 

He put a hand over his eyes and the bridge of his nose and reminded himself he was safe. 

Nightmares don’t always reflect inner thoughts.  He reminded himself.  It’s just a buildup of other ideas mashed together. 

Just then, the body to the left of him shifted.

“House?” Wilson breathed sleepily, rolling over. 

House didn’t respond. Some of him hoped Wilson would just turn around and go back to sleep. 

The man beside him sat up.

“House?” He repeated. “You alright?”

House blinked. 

“I’m fine...” House muttered. 

Just as the words left his lips, a sharp pain struck his body. He winced, nearly grabbing his leg for comfort, but stopped himself before realizing it would contradict his first statement. 

“What happened?” Wilson asked, leaning forward slightly. 

Despite how close they were, House made it a point to avoid eye contact. He wasn’t sure how red his eyes were yet or if he’d been crying at all for that matter. 

“Nightmare.” House answered, desperately trying to control his breathing. “I’m fine. Go back to sleep.”

Wilson ignored him.

“House please.” Said Wilson, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Talk to me.”

House sighed, trying to let all his thoughts out with it. 

“There’s nothing to talk about. You get some sleep.” House answered.

He didn’t mean to sound bitter, but everything hurt right now. The dream had shaken him up and worse yet, his leg felt like it was being crushed with a hammer. 

“House...” Wilson tried.

“Wilson I’m fine!” House spat, brushing Wilson’s hand away. Again, he didn’t want to be angry at him. It wasn’t Wilson’s fault he was such a wreck. 

Wilson shifted back, aware that House was clearly in pain, but still slightly hurt by his reaction. 

House sighed.

“I’m sorry...just...” House still didn’t turn to look at him. “I’ll be right back.”

House sat up, holding back a groan from the sudden shock on putting weight back on his leg and began steadily making his way to the door.

House waited for Wilson to ask where he was going, but he didn’t. 

Great.  He thought.  Now you scared him, you asshole. 

He thought about walking back to apologize again, but his ability to move back and forth was compromised at the moment. 

House stumbled down the hallway without the use of his cane until he reached the bathroom. 

Shutting the door behind him, House turned on the faucet. He splashed his face with the cold water and looked in the mirror.

To put it simply, he looked rough. This eyes were reddish, chin still unshaven, and his shirt was slightly stained with sweat beneath his arms. 

Just then, the pain in his leg started to tense. He gripped his thigh and closed his eyes, letting out a shakey breath. He began massaging the area methodically, but it didn’t really matter. His Vicodin was sitting on his bedside table. If he went back now he’d have to talk to Wilson again and then he’d ask about his dream and then...

House sighed.

And then I’ll yell at him again. Thought House.

He felt sick. He hated being so angry all the time. He hated feeling so...so sneaky. He’d been having the same dream for weeks, but it hadn’t been nearly as severe since...

Suddenly his leg flared up again. This time much worse than before. House put his hand on the counter to stable himself. He let out a breathless sigh like the air had been sucked out of his lungs. 

He wanted to punch something. It wasn’t fucking fair was it? It wasn’t fair that his leg hurt like hell on top of everything else. It wasn’t fair that he’d had the same goddam dream on and off for at least a year. There’d been a few months where it was off for a while...well...before...

Before Wilson moved in with you.  House finished.

It was true. The dream had come back the week after their first...”morning after”. He’d avoided telling Wilson so far but...they were getting worse. Each time with more detail. Fewer mistakes. Always terrifying. He could keep it up forever. He’d have to say something eventually. 

House stood up. He turned the lights off and began making his way back down the hallway. 

He paused at his bedroom door and leaned towards the crack, listening for Wilson’s breathing. He could hear it, faintly but it was there. It was slow but House still couldn’t tell if he was sleeping or not. He waited a few more seconds. 

A part of him ached to walk back in there, cryinto his lover’s shoulder, and listen to his soothing voice, but then he’d have to come to terms about why he was upset. His pain would hurt Wilson and after all the shit House had given him over the years, he didn’t need that. 

House swallowed. 

He slowly made his way to the living room and sat down on the couch. He cupped his face with his hands. 

You’re a coward.  He told himself.  Just stop running. Get it over with.

He raised his head slightly, still fighting to clear his mind. The window to outside emitted a soft grayish-yellow light. The room looked almost deep purple in the darkness. Over his own breathing, House could hear the faint hum of the city. 

There were...the cars, vague chatter, dogs barking in the distance...suddenly his heart stopped.

Sirens. 

The dream began to resurface. 

House gripped his hair with his fists. 

It’s your fault.  His mind screamed.  You did this. You killed her. 

He tried to hold his breath, but his body wouldn’t allow it. He lurched forward with a painful grunt, begging himself to quiet down. He wasn’t loud but he knew it was above a whisper. His chest heaved as the weight of guilt slammed back into him. 

It’s your fault and Wilson knows. He knows it’s your fault House. He hates you. 

House’s body shuddered. He clenched his teeth as cool tears pooled down his cheeks. 

He‘s going to remember that you killed Amber. He’s going to leave you. He should leave. You’re just hurting him.

Crying felt unnatural to House. He did his best to hold himself together in even the worst situations. But this...all this was too much. It was all too much....

Suddenly a shadow was covering him. 

House looked up to Wilson standing beside him. The light was shining behind him, yet still in the shadows his face was illuminated slightly. House held his breath. He’d forgotten Wilson slept shirtless.

“I-...” House said shakily. 

Suddenly Wilson’s arms were around his own. He was on his knees at the carpet of the couch. His soft brown hair was pressed slightly into his shoulder. 

House paused, shocked by the warmth of his embrace. Wilson...Wilson was crying too.

“I’m sorry... I know you want me to leave you alone but..I can’t.” Wilson said slowly. 

“What’s wrong House? Please...Please I need you to tell me. Is it me? Did I...Did I do somethi-“

House hugged back tightly. He closed his eyes and kissed Wilson’s neck tenderly. Not out of lust, but the same way you’d kiss someone you’d though you’d lost. 

“It’s not your fault. It’s never your fault.” House hiccuped through his words. “I’m sorry I...I...can’t...I don’t know how to feel better. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to hurt you like this.“

“House.” Wilson said softly, “please. Please House just talk to me.”

House kept his arms around him. He needed to hang on just a little longer. 

Seconds passed. Neither said anything. Both of them too worried about the other to find the words to express it.

House sighed quietly, letting go of Wilson as a chill washed over his body. 

“I keep...I keep seeing Amber in my dreams. And then you’re there too...a-and...and then you yell at me...and I...”House finally  finally  looked into Wilson’s deep brown eyes. 

“I...I don’t want to lose you.” 

Wilson stared back at him. His face was mostly hidden in darkness, but House could still make out a few of his delicate features.

His eyes for one...looked almost golden in the light...they were wide and lit with concern.

“You won’t” Wilson whispered learning forward and kissing him on the lips. 

He sat back and took House’s hand in his own.

“I...I don’t blame you House. I mean...I mean what if you’d gotten more injured in that crash? It could have been anybody...if you died I wouldn’t blame Amber...You don’t deserve to take this guilt. It’s nobody’s. Her death...an accident.” 

As the words left his lips, House caught the light of a few tears trailing down Wilson’s face. His vice had been airy...full of a numb pain that wouldn’t ever fully leave him. 

The man opened his lips to speak again, but he couldn’t. Both of them still holding back the words that went unspoken. 

Wilson looked down and then up again, still trying to say something over his trembling breath.

House stared back at him, placing a hand against the side of his partner’s face.

“I love you.” House managed. The words had never come so easily to him. 

A small smile crossed Wilson’s face before he leaned forward to kiss his lover again. He wrapped his wall arms around him once more before whispering in his ear.

“I love you too, House.”


End file.
